


Bird's Wings

by snewvilliurs



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snewvilliurs/pseuds/snewvilliurs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Noah's death, Basch still has demons to face, and some sky pirates seem to think it falls to them to help him do so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bird's Wings

“Come on, Your Honour,” Balthier spoke, stressing the words with which he addressed Basch with a distinct tinge of sarcasm. “She was not built to idly stay docked waiting for you.”

Today, he was not Gabranth, and Vaan and Penelo had made it clear when they decided to whisk away Larsa for a well-deserved day off, which Balthier and Fran took to mean that Basch was also free of his duties. It had taken the both of them to coax him out of his Judge Magister’s armour and into something less conspicuous—though Balthier had snorted that there was little more conspicuous than a dead man.

“For someone who stood in the doorway of my bedroom and said you would wait all day until I changed, you seem to be in quite the hurry,” Basch said in return, his voice sounding hoarse and dry. He had not been on the Strahl since their escape from the Sky Fortress Bahamut, and at the sight of her, his feet felt as if they had been nailed to the ground. It had always surprising to see how well the sky pirate seemed to understand him, but Balthier simply took one look at him and nodded, as if to urge him on. Basch wanted to protest, but the words would not leave him.

“Stay chained to the past like this, and it will eat you alive.”

The words Balthier had chosen sounded to his ears like the sharp crack of a whip. “I wonder why so many speak so readily of cages and chains to me.”

“Act less like a prisoner and I’ll stop, simple as that.”

Balthier shrugged and, whistling a pirate tune, turned to board the ship, not waiting for Basch. Fran was already inside, and for a moment, he honestly thought (hoped, perhaps) that the two of them would tire of waiting and simply leave. But still they waited, letting him take shaky breaths and fight off the rising feeling of panic inside his chest that had his hands trembling, as if he would have a chance to go back in time and save what had been lost, but also a chance to fail in doing so.

Just when he was starting to decide to turn around, a bird flew overhead, catching his eye when it cried out. How pathetically ironic. But the pendant on his chest still gleamed in the sunlight, and finally he took a step forward, then another, until he was inside the Strahl, greeted by Balthier’s relentlessly cheerful and somewhat sardonic voice. “Ah, there is the man! And I thought we were to start calling ourselves land pirates. Fran, let’s fly!”

Basch sat behind Balthier for takeoff, keeping his eyes from straying where he last wanted them to. He knew he couldn’t avoid this forever—this was why Balthier had brought him on board, after all—but he still lacked the courage to. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed in front of him, looking out until they were soaring high above the clouds.

“Nothing feels better than flying out of Archades in my own ship,” Balthier commented, by all appearances to Fran, but Basch knew his words were directed at him when he realized it had probably taken more than he would have liked to admit to return to his homeland after his father had died. “As much as I like to face my past, it feels better to leave it behind, don’t you think, Fran?”

“I would rather say letting go,” Fran answered—for her, it was not so much turning her back as it was accepting to no longer be part of something.

What was it for him, Basch wondered? Briefly, he thought of Ashe, and how she had embraced her losses only to grow stronger, and more dignified than ever—like a true Queen. He pictured her face, and how she might smile small and tell him there was only one way for him to find the answers. The first time he had seen her, she had been a cooing infant, and now she stayed with him still, wiser than a young woman should be.

He had faced worse in her name and that of Dalmasca, he convinced himself as he stood, fists clenched. But there was little more painful than this: looking to where he had knelt, Noah’s hand tight in his as he watched the light leave his brother’s eyes. Something rushed over him, like a powerful wave when the tides were high, and he staggered at the memory, dropping down on the small cot.

Since Noah’s death, he had run that particular moment in his mind thousands of times, and every day he thought to live better without him. It came to him even in dreams, and never had it hit him so hard. He screwed his eyes shut with a shaky breath, pressing his fingers to his brow as he hid his face behind his hands like a child trying to cover up the fact that he wanted to cry. Tears stung at his eyes as his heart pounded furiously inside his chest.

Distantly, he could hear Noah’s laugh, when his voice had just finished breaking. Before he had left Landis. Though it only made the tears fall after he had desperately tried to hold them back, he laughed with him, the sound of it dying into a silent prayer.

“Faram,” he finished softly, feeling the weight of Balthier’s hand on his shoulder.

“I believe you are a free man now, friend.”

Basch gave a slow nod. “Thank you.”


End file.
